by R. N. Morris
The weight of his body tilted the vat, which would have been unbearably hot in itself.
His screams now were intense but short-lived. A flood of blazing liquid fire covered his face, sending up a plume of smoke. The sizzle of cooked meat mingled with the mineral tang of the workshop.
*
Porfiry closed the door behind him. He met Virginsky’s questioning gaze. ‘He’s dead.’
A blanket had been found for Maria Petrovna, to replace her shawl. The rigours of the experience showed in her eyes. And yet she managed a delicate, complicated smile for Porfiry.
‘What happened in there?’ said Virginsky, indicating the munitions storeroom. He took hold of Porfiry. There was an undoubted edge of sexual jealousy to Virginsky’s question.
‘I behaved rather foolishly and Maria Petrovna came to my rescue. Had it not been for her quick thinking, the storeroom would have gone up in an inferno.’
‘Well, at any rate, it is over now. You are safe.’
Virginsky’s dismissiveness offended Porfiry. ‘If you will permit me, I wish to talk to the young lady who saved my life.’
Virginsky bowed and released Porfiry.
Her eyes darted frantically, as if they wished to escape from his approach.
‘Don’t say anything.’ Her smile had an edge of panic to it. She seemed for a moment very young.
‘In the darkness …’ It surprised me. The strength of feeling. I think perhaps it was the effect of the darkness.’
‘I beg you, Porfiry Petrovich. Say no more.’
‘I have been surprised.’
‘Yes.’
‘We are alive! That is the thing that surprises me most.’
‘It is good to be surprised by life.’ At last she looked up and met his gaze. Her smile was consoling and indulgent, but still not quite all that he had hoped for.
Even so, he could not stem the flow of words. ‘Oh yes, infinitely good. I have been surprised by death too often. My heart … I feel my heart has opened.’
And now her smile was complicated by regret.
Porfiry felt a wave of sickening disappointment. ‘Apollon Mikhailovich met with a terrible accident,’ he said. ‘I do not advise you to view the body.’ He bowed tersely and turned from her.
‘Porfiry!’
He swivelled back to face her.
‘Please.’ Her face was crumpled in despair, slicked with tears. ‘I am sorry. You must understand, it cannot be. We cannot be. What happened must remain back there.’
‘I quite agree. You have your life. The school. The children. I have mine. My work is everything to me. Thank you for reminding me. You must find it in your heart to forgive a foolish old man. I was momentarily overcome … by … by my surprise. Good day, Maria Petrovna.’ He bowed and turned from her again.
He was aware of Virginsky staring into his face, with a strange, intent fascination. And around him, the sounds of industry started up, as the Nobel Metalworking Plant returned to work.
Historical note
Alexander II came to the Russian imperial throne in 1855. In 1861, he began a series of great reforms, including the liberation of 23 million serfs and the introduction of a fairer judicial system. If the reforms were intended to win over opponents to his regime, they failed. For the radicals, he had not gone far enough. For the conservatives, he should never have started. The first of many attempts on his life took place in 1866. He was finally assassinated in 1881. The day before his death saw the finishing touches put to a new constitution which allowed for an elected parliament – a revolutionary development in autocratic Russia. The new constitution, approved by Alexander II, never saw the light of day. One of the first acts of Alexander III – the tsarevich in this novel – was to suppress it. ‘Thank God, this criminal and precipitous step towards a constitution was not taken,’ he noted.
Acknowledgements
Novelists occasionally have to ask stupid questions of people who have better things to do with their time than answer them. In the case of crime novelists, the questions are often unpleasant as well as stupid. I would like to thank the following people for generously giving their time to help me find answers to my questions without ever making me feel either stupid or unpleasant: Michael Heavener, Mark Budman, Professor Alan Dronsfield of the Royal Society of Chemistry, and Carlina de la Cova, Ph.D., of the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. It goes without saying that the mistakes are all my own doing.
My debt to F. M. Dostoevsky, the original creator of Porfiry Petrovich, remains immeasurable.
About the Author
Born in Manchester in 1960, R. N. Morris now lives in North London with his wife and two young children. A Vengeful Longing follows A Gentle Axe in a series of St. Petersburg novels revolving around the character of Porfiry Petrovich. Taking Comfort was published by Macmillan under the name Roger Morris in 2006.
By the Same Author
A GENTLE AXE
A VENGEFUL LONGING
Copyright
First published in 2010
by Faber and Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2010
All rights reserved
© R. N. Morris, 2010
The right of R. N. Morris to be identified as author of this work
has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright,
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This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–25428–6
